Remembering my grandfather

My grandfather, Cleo Richards, was inducted into the United States Army on October 16, 1942, and would become a radio operator in the 96th Signal Corp, part of the 96th Infantry Division.  He was one of over 100,000 U.S. troops to fight in the battle of Leyte Island in the Philippines during World War II, and it was there that he nearly lost his life.

In his memoirs, he wrote:

On October 20, 1944, we invaded Leyte Island, which was part of the Philippine Islands.  The Navy and Air Force bombarded the shore of the island for three days prior to landing.  The purpose was to drive the Japs inland so we could land with a minimum of casualties.  After three days, troops began to land.  Our company was among the first to leave the troop ship and head for land.  … When we reached shore, the front end of the landing boat was loaded, and we were ready to hit the beach.  It was a gruesome sight and a weird feeling.  Dead Japs were scattered around as a result of the shelling of the area prior to our landing.  My job was to go inland 200-300 yards and find a spot that would be adequate to set up our command post.  I was to set up my sending and receiving set and send a message to headquarters, which was still aboard ship, notifying them that we had landed.

… I was on duty all that day, all night and until about noon the next day.  When I was finally relieved, I went to a nearby tree, sat down, leaned against the tree trunk and tried to pull myself together and relax.  That didn’t last long because all of a sudden a very large shell landed right in the middle of our command post.  It was so powerful it blew a hole in the ground large enough to drive a semi-truck in.  The explosion sent chunks of shrapnel every direction.  When I heard the explosion, I immediately headed for a foxhole and dove in head first.  After the situation settled down a bit, I raised my head to look things over and noticed blood on the ground where my head had been lying.  Then I noticed my face was bleeding.  I didn’t realize I had been hit.  I was sent to the first-aid station for treatment, but they were not equipped to remove the object from my face.  It entered my face about two inches below my eye.  All they could do was put a patch on it.  By that time, the whole side of my face was badly swollen, and my eye was almost swollen shut.  Since there was nothing else they could do for me, they put me back aboard ship.

My grandfather was lucky enough to survive his injury, but over 3,500 U.S. troops who fought to recapture Leyte Island were not.

After his injury, my grandfather was sent home to a hospital on the island of Guadalcanal, where he was awarded the Purple Heart.  He was discharged on April 27, 1945.  He would later go to work as an accountant in West Texas and become a father, a grandfather, and a great-grandfather before passing away in 2006 at the age of 89.

Growing up, I knew that my Papa had fought in World War II and had been injured, but like many veterans, he rarely talked about his time in the service.  Instead, what I remember most about him is the love he had for his family and for the Lord.  He is an amazing example of what it means to be a husband, a father, a man, and most importantly, a follower of Jesus Christ.

These are the men and women we remember on Memorial Day, the ones who willingly gave themselves up to defend our freedom.  And I’m forever grateful of the sacrifices they have made.

Below: My grandfather during his time in the service.

Below: In 2004, with my daughter Erin, who was 1 at the time.

Below: A brick commemorating my grandfather’s service at the Veteran’s War Memorial in Lubbock, Texas.

‘What if we were content with God’s perfect love?’

The past few weeks have been pretty stressful for me.  I won’t go into detail, but suffice it to say, I really needed to read this article that I came across in Relevant Magazine last week:

True freedom is being liberated from our misplaced dependencies for life, love, worth, significance, peace and fulfillment. I’ve discovered my most significant needs in life correspond with a deeper need that only God Himself can satisfy. … Most people want to feel their lives matter and set out to make their mark in the world. But if you look to the world to tell you who you are, you’re in for one wild and painful ride. Do well, and you’re a hero; screw up, and you’re a zero.

Paul’s word content seems a little weak, but it actually describes a very powerful freedom. What if we were content (satisfied and fulfilled) with God’s perfect love and were free to give love, rather than constantly maneuvering to get it? Or what if we were content with our identity in God and were free to serve the world, rather than trying to prove we have a right to exist in it. Geez, all this time I’ve been seeking life, love, worth out there somewhere only to find that the source of all of these was inside me all the time through the risen Christ. No person, endeavor, thrill, formula or achievement is capable of delivering what we all crave deep within. There’s always something that could go better, but the peace and joy God provides go with you … even if life throws you overboard. That’s freedom!

What makes life better?

I love eating dinner at the table with my kids.  You never know what they’re going to talk about.  Last night while we were eating, Megan said out of the blue, “Don’t you think life is better now?”

I wasn’t quite sure how to respond to that.  Better than when?

“Better than when Grampa was a kid.”

I have no idea what prompted her question, but for an 8-year-old, Megan can be a pretty deep thinker sometimes.  So why is life better now than when Grampa was a kid?

“Because back then, they didn’t have the stuff we do.  Girls had to straighten their hair with an iron.”

Again, I’m not sure why she would be thinking about straightening hair with an iron and then somehow bring her grandfather’s name up, but it was still an interesting observation.  Her point was that the things we have today that make life more convenient make it better.

Is that true?

I told her that in my opinion, people were probably happier back then than they are today.  They didn’t have as much stuff, but life was simpler then and not as hectic.  All the stuff we have now like the Internet and DVRs and cell phones are great, but as a result the world moves so much faster around us, making it harder to keep up.  Plus, people are much more isolated today.  We don’t have as many friends, and we’re not as connected to family as we were back then.

The bottom line is, all this stuff is not what’s important, and while it can make life more convenient, it doesn’t necessarily make it better.

I don’t know if she understood my point, but I’m thankful that she made me stop and think about it.  It’s something I need to remember often.

Previously:
The next nostalgia

Uneven lanes

There’s a spot on eastbound I-635 in north Dallas where the outer edge of the right-hand lanes dips suddenly, causing the shoulder to be slightly higher.  If you happen to hit the spot with your right front tire, it can easily cause you to lose control of your car, especially if you hit it at 50 or 60 miles an hour.

I’ve made that mistake a few times on my way to work, and even though I’ve never fully lost control, it’s certainly scared the crap out of me.

It’s a dangerous spot, a defect so small and minor that it’s almost completely unnoticeable but significant enough to cause a major wreck for anyone caught by surprise.  But here’s the thing: While it would be so easy to patch it up, road crews chose instead to simply mark it with a warning sign:

UNEVEN LANES

How many times do we do the same thing in our own lives?  We carry around a small but dangerous defect in our ourselves.  Maybe it’s in our choices, maybe our attitude, maybe it’s the words we use.  It’s barely noticeable — if it’s noticeable at all — but it has the capacity to cause significant damage to ourselves and the people around us.  We’ll go so far as to acknowledge the problem, but ultimately we’re unwilling to do what it takes to actually fix it.

The apostle Paul points out in Galatians 2:16 that no one can ever be made right just by trying to do the right things; it’s only by placing our faith in Jesus Christ that all of our holes, dips, and defects can be fully mended.

What areas of my life are in need of repair today?  What needs to be repaired in yours?

A little social network housecleaning

It’s weird how social networks like Facebook and Twitter can mess with your mind.  You sign up for a Facebook account because, quite frankly, everyone else is doing it.  Then along comes Twitter because, well, why not.  It’s all innocent fun at first, but at some point it becomes less about the quality of the connections being made through the sites and more about the quantity.  How many Facebook friends do I have?  How many people are following me on Twitter?  How many hits is my blog getting, and how can I generate more comments?

Who cares?

I’m rarely on Facebook anymore.  I thought it was because of all the ridiculous surveys and other nonsense that clutter up the news feed, but I’ve come to realize it’s actually because most of the “noise” is coming from a handful of Facebook friends that I’m really not that interested in.  It’s not that they’re bad people, it’s just that I don’t really interact with them any more, and inevitably these are also the same people that update their Facebook status 20 times a day and feel the need to comment on everything.  So I made a decision yesterday to unfriend several of them.

Ironically, at the same time I was cutting my digital ties on Facebook, I was losing 9 followers on Twitter.  Most of them were people or organizations that I had no association with anyway, but one was a person I communicated with fairly regularly.

Immediately, I began trying to figure out what I had said to drive this person away.  Had I offended them in some way?  What had I done wrong?  The pangs of rejection hit me hard for a few minutes.  And then I realized the irony.

I had just let 8 or 9 people go on one social network as 9 people were letting me go on another.  When I unfriended my Facebook friends, it wasn’t personal at all — none of them had hurt me or offended me in any way.  I just wasn’t finding value in their Facebook updates.  In all likelihood, the people who stopped following me on Twitter felt the same way about my tweets: for whatever reason I wasn’t adding value to their lives.

Author Anne Jackson recently wrote on her blog about following “conversations” on Twitter rather than following people:

Overall, unless you have a real strategy behind Twittering, by following a ton of people, you’re not networking. You’re only following a lot of noise. Sure, you may occasionally find a nugget to chew on, but a lot of other well-deserving Tweets will fall through the cracks and be buried in the chaos of the masses.

… If you truly want Twitter to be an effective social networking tool, strategize *somehow* (it doesn’t have to look like mine) or clean house.  If you want it to be a flood of noise, keep hitting the Follow button and let the Tweets roll on by.

As social media takes on a greater role in our lives, we need to stop thinking in terms of quantity.  Simply having more Twitter followers or blog readers or whatever doesn’t mean you’re a better person.  Your self worth shouldn’t be determined by Google Analytics.  In fact, “more” can be worse because it dilutes the value of the connections you really care about.

I hope that if you’re reading this, you do find some value in it.  I hope that if you follow me on Twitter or if we’re Facebook friends, that I’m not just producing a lot of noise in your life.  But if I am, then by all means let me go.  I won’t take it personally.

Previously:
How to play the game of ‘Blog-Facebook-Twitter’

I’m Barack Obama, and I approve this homework

My second-grader Megan routinely brings home short little books to read for homework, so when I saw a new one sitting on the dining room table last night, it didn’t surprise me.  The cover, however, did.

Looking smug and stately (someone said like a dictator) was a picture of the 44th President of the United States, Barack Obama.  Oh boy, I instantly thought.  This could be interesting.

While Megan continued working on her math homework, I swiped the biography and read it cover to cover (which took all of a minute since it was only about ten pages long).

Thankfully, the booklet was mostly politics-free.  The point, after all, was to promote reading comprehension, not recruit for ACORN (although I could be wrong there, you never know).  But even if it wasn’t meant to be a work of Liberal propaganda, I couldn’t help but cringe repeatedly throughout the exercise.

Chapter 1: A Big Job

Translation: It’s not easy being a Socialist, er President.  Thankfully, the national media and the Texas State Board of Education make it a lot easier.  Here, have some federal bailout money.  No, really, I insist.  There’s plenty more where that came from.

“His mother was a white woman from the United States.  His father was a black man from a country in Africa.”

Wait, wait, wait!  Who edited this book anyway, Bill O’Reilly?  You can’t say “black man” in a public school textbook!  Let’s just scratch that out and make a quick correction.  “His mother was a white woman who was ashamed of her greedy, materialistic country, and his father was a mighty African warrior.”  Much better.

“He moved to Chicago.  He helped people learn about new jobs.”

Wait, did I miss something?  Where’s the part about his association with radical anti-war activist William Ayers or his 20-year membership in the church pastored by Jeremiah “G– d– America” Wright?  Guess that didn’t make it to the final draft.

“He helped change laws to make life better for poor people.”

Translation: He helped change laws to make life worse for business owners and those who work hard to succeed.

“Many people liked Barack’s speech.  They liked his message of hope and peace.”

Translation: They liked that he wasn’t George W. Bush and that he could read from a teleprompter really well, and they were ready to surrender to the terrorists.

“Barack will keep working to help people and make the world a more peaceful place.”

Translation: Barack will ask China, Europe, and Iran for permission to make the world a more peaceful place.  Here, have some more bailout money.

Well, that’s how I read the book anyway.  Megan didn’t quite interpret it the same way.

She’ll learn.

New computer pics

On Saturday I got my new computer built.  It’s always a little nerve-wracking, hoping that after spending hours getting everything meticulously assembled that it actually works.  There’s nothing like the relief of pressing the power button and hearing the single beep from the BIOS, a signal that, yes, it’s able to boot up.

Below: The cabling isn’t the prettiest, but it looks better in person.  As you can see, I love zip-ties.  They’re better than duct tape.

Below: Now to see if it boots up.  The blue lights from the front fans are a really nice touch.  With the front cover closed, the light is pretty subtle.  I thought about adding another lighted fan in the back, but I think in this case, less is probably more.

Below: The finished product.  I love the case.

Below: Windows Vista installed.  Running the 32-bit version now, but I’ll probably upgrade to 64-bit with Windows 7.

Below: The main limitation to the system currently is the onboard graphics, which are decent but not spectacular.  I opted not to add a separate video card for now to stay (mostly) on budget, but I’ll probably add one later.  For now, the onboard Intel graphics meet my needs.

Previously:
Time for a new computer

Time for a new computer

Actually the title of this post should be “Way past time for a new computer.”

I’m getting ready to order parts to build a new home computer, and I can’t wait.  My current desktop is a Dell Optiplex GX260 which I got for free two years ago from work.  It was old back then, but after several parts upgrades, I was able to run Windows Vista on it.  But now disk space is running low on the C: drive, and the strain of running Vista on an old Pentium 4 machine is really starting to show.

My wife’s computer, on the other hand, isn’t even faring that well.  She inherited her machine from me about four years ago, a Gateway desktop bought in January 2000.  Yep, that’s over nine years ago, an eternity in computer years.  And now it’s finally pooping out.

So the plan is to build a new machine from scratch for me, then reformat the GX260 for her.  OK, so it’s another hand-me-down, but this hand-me-down is like ten times better than what she has now, and with XP on it instead of Vista, it’ll run great.  Trust me, I’d love to buy her a brand new machine, but we’re on a tight budget here.  (That’s also why I’m building a new machine instead of buying one off the shelf: more bang for the buck.)

Here is a run-down of the components on my shopping list (in case you’re curious):

• Rosewill Conqueror case (pictured right, from Newegg.com)
• Intel Core 2 Quad Q9400 2.66GHz processor
• MSI G41M-FD motherboard with on-board Intel GMA 4500 graphics and gigabit ethernet (Sticking with on-board video for now, although I may add a separate video card later.)
• 4 GB DDR2 RAM (I may upgrade to 8 GB later if I upgrade to 64-bit version of Windows 7.)
• Western Digital Caviar 500 GB SATA hard drive with 32 MB cache (Will probably add a second drive later, but not needed right now.)
• SATA DVD-ROM drive and DVD Lightscribe burner
• 600 Watt power supply
• ASUS V72 CPU fan

I’ll transfer my existing Vista Business and Office 2007 licenses over and will use my existing keyboard, mouse, and monitor.

And of course I’ll update the blog once I get everything in and start assembling it.

Dallas is foreign to me, even though I visit there every day

How weird is it that I go to Dallas every day but have seen almost none of it?

Like many residents in the Dallas-Fort Worth Metroplex, I live in the suburbs but work in Dallas.  I drive to work five days a week to my office in North Dallas, then drive home when I’m done.  And that’s pretty much the extent of my association with Big D.

I was reminded of just how foreign Dallas is to me when Fort Worth urban blogger Kevin Buchanan took a self-guided tour through the city, comparing Dallas’s urban design to that of Cowtown’s.  (And yes, I know how much he hates that term; wouldn’t want to promote Fort Worth’s agricultural roots too much, would we?)

Anyhow, while I disagree with Buchanan on a lot of things, I agree with him that much of Dallas is designed more for car traffic than foot traffic.  It’s designed to accommodate workers who commute in by car to work, not for residents or visitors to spend leisure time there.  And while there are a handful of attractions to be found, there aren’t many, and those that exist are spread out really far from each other.

As a result, there’s very little incentive to drive way back across town to visit on my time off.  After all, what would I do when I got there?  If you’re going to a Mavericks or Stars game, there’s the American Airlines Center, but the adjoining Victory Park is almost completely vacant.  (What few restaurants and retail stores open there struggle to stay in business.)  You could go to the Dallas World Aquarium, but the nearby West End is also pretty vacant.  There’s the State Fair in the fall, but the fairgrounds are pretty quiet the rest of the year.  Or there’s the Sixth Floor Museum if you still have any interest in the JFK assassination.

But if you just want to stroll around town to eat and shop and listen to live music, you won’t be going Downtown.  Other than the beautiful skyscrapers, there’s not much there.

Contrast that with some other big cities like Chicago.  I’ve visited Chicago a few times on business, and when the weather is nice, it has a lot to offer.  Grant Park and Millenium Park sit between downtown and Lake Michigan, offering plenty of family-friendly space to hang out.  The Navy Pier, Lincoln Park, and the Magnificent Mile also offer plenty of activities, just to name a few.  Downtown is extremely pedestrian-friendly, and the buses and trains allow most workers to take public transportation to work rather than have to navigate the already-insane streets.

Dallas, meanwhile, can’t even figure out how to build a convention center hotel.

Listen, I don’t mean to bash Dallas, I really don’t.  I just don’t have any strong feelings towards it, despite the fact I’ve lived in the Metroplex for over 20 years.  Yeah, I guess I could make more of an effort to get to know the city better.  Who knows, maybe I would learn to appreciate it more.  But for now, other than a biweekly paycheck, there’s not much compelling me to come back.

Previously:
Better than Fair

A different checklist

“May you live all the days of your life.”
- Jonathan Swift

A friend of mine posted the following list of items on his blog recently, a checklist of things “completed or experienced,” and I was surprised at the number of items he was able to check off.

(I’ve removed his comments.)

1. Started your own blog
2. Slept under the stars
3. Played in a band
4. Visited Hawaii
5. Watched a meteor shower
6. Given more than you can afford to charity
7. Been to Disneyland
8. Climbed a mountain
9. Held a praying mantis
10. Sang a solo
11. Bungee jumped
12. Visited Paris
13. Watched a lightning storm at sea
14. Taught yourself an art from scratch
15. Adopted a child
16. Had food poisoning
17. Walked to the top of the Statue of Liberty
18. Grown your own vegetables
19. Seen the Mona Lisa in France
20. Slept on an overnight train
21. Had a pillow fight
22. Hitchhiked
23. Taken a sick day when you’re not ill
24. Built a snow fort
25. Held a lamb
26. Gone skinny dipping
27. Run a marathon
28. Ridden in a gondola in Venice
29. Seen a total eclipse
30. Watched a sunrise or sunset
31. Hit a home run
32. Been on a cruise
33. Seen Niagara Falls in person
34. Visited the birthplace of your ancestors
35. Seen an Amish community
36. Taught yourself a new language
37. Had enough money to be truly satisfied
38. Seen the Leaning Tower of Pisa in person
39. Gone rock climbing
40. Seen Michelangelo’s David
41. Sung karaoke
42. Seen Old Faithful geyser erupt
43. Bought a stranger a meal at a restaurant
44. Visited Africa
45. Walked on a beach by moonlight
46. Been transported in an ambulance
47. Had your portrait painted
48. Gone deep sea fishing
49. Seen the Sistine Chapel in person
50. Been on television
51. Gone scuba diving or snorkeling
52. Kissed in the rain
53. Played in the mud
54. Gone to a drive-in theater
55. Been in a movie
56. Visited the Great Wall of China
57. Started a business
58. Taken a martial arts class
59. Visited Russia
60. Served at a soup kitchen
61. Sold Girl Scout Cookies
62. Gone whale watching
63. Got flowers for no reason
64. Donated blood, platelets or plasma
65. Gone sky diving
66. Visited a Nazi Concentration Camp
67. Bounced a check
68. Flown in a helicopter
69. Saved a favorite childhood toy
70. Visited the Lincoln Memorial
71. Eaten Caviar
72. Pieced a quilt
73. Stood in Times Square
74. Toured the Everglades
75. Been fired from a job
76. Seen the Changing of the Guards in London
77. Broken a bone
78. Been on a speeding motorcycle
79. Seen the Grand Canyon in person
80. Published a book
81. Visited the Vatican
82. Bought a brand new car
83. Walked in Jerusalem
84. Had your picture in the newspaper
85. Read the entire Bible
86. Visited the White House
87. Killed and prepared an animal for eating
88. Had chickenpox
89. Saved someone’s life
90. Sat on a jury
91. Met someone famous
92. Joined a book club
93. Lost a loved one
94. Had a baby
95. Seen the Alamo in person
96. Swam in the Great Salt Lake
97. Been involved in a lawsuit
98. Owned a cell phone
99. Been stung by a bee
100. Totally copied a post from someone else’s blog to your own

Truth be told, I can’t cross off many items on this list.  Maybe someday I will.  But in the meantime, I can at least say I’ve accomplished some other things:

• I have a college degree.
• I have a reasonably secure job.
• I earn almost twice as much as the average American, and about 8 times as much as the average person worldwide.
• I own my own house and so far have never missed a house payment.
• I have medical insurance and easy access to a doctor or hospital if needed.
• I am happily married.
• I have two beautiful, healthy children, who are getting a good education and learning about God and the Bible.
• I know that as screwed up as I may be, my sins are forgiven.
• I live in a nation where I can openly profess my faith without fear of recrimination; where I have the privilege to vote according to my conscience; and where I don’t have to worry daily about IEDs, suicide bombers, or missile attacks.

Obviously, not everyone can say the same.

The point is, I can look at the first list and regret that I haven’t done more, that I haven’t experienced more.  Or I can be thankful for the many blessings that I do have.

Which option would you pick?

Remembering Buddy Holly

It was 50 years ago today that the plane carrying Buddy Holly, Ritchie Valens, and J.P. Richardson (The Big Bopper) crashed in an Iowa cornfield, killing all three of the musicians and the pilot.

Buddy Holly’s death, of course, occurred well before I was born, but anyone born and raised in Lubbock, Texas — as I was — has an innate connection to him.  To Lubbock, he is more than a famous musician, he is a patron saint.  And just as any Baby Boomer can instantly recall where they were when Kennedy died, any Lubbock-born Boomer can say the same about their native son.

My education in the music of Buddy Holly and The Crickets began early in my childhood, and even though I haven’t lived in West Texas for over 20 years, I still listen to the old songs every so often.  And each time I do, they evoke strong and familiar memories of my old home.  I remember sitting on the floor in front of my dad’s stereo, flipping through all of his old vinyl record albums as “Peggy Sue” played through the huge speakers that sat on either side.  And hearing my mom talk about all the people she grew up with that had some kind of connection to The Crickets.

And so for me, today’s anniversary isn’t so much about honoring a man whose music would influence every single Rock ‘n Roll and Country musician who came after him.  Instead, it’s more personal, a reminder of those brief childhood moments that still make me smile after all these years.

Previously:
Peggy Sue cashes in

The circle game

My kids love games.  One of their favorites is something they simply refer to as the “circle game.”

The circle game is a large, round tin box filled with marbles, chess and checkers pieces, pick-up sticks, dice, and Parcheesi pieces, with boards for each game printed on the inside and outside of the box.  I know the girls got it as a gift at some point, but for the life of me, I can’t remember from whom.

Whenever we sit down to play, I usually suggest Chinese checkers, or if it’s just the two of us, regular checkers.  But almost always, the “game” ends up being some convoluted make-it-up-as-they-go-along product of the girls’ imaginations.  Roll a die and pick up that number of marbles.  Once you have so many marbles, you get a green pick-up stick.  If you get a yellow pick-up stick, you have to put it back and get a red checker instead.  Put all the marbles in one pile and all the checkers in another pile, then dump everything back in the can and stir it up with your stick.  (OK, so now we’re making soup?)

I used to groan at the random nonsense of it all, but then I realized that I wasn’t teaching them as much as they were teaching me.

When I look at this box of game pieces, I see Chinese checkers, chess, Parcheesi — specific games with set rules and guidelines.  When they look at it, they see a collection of raw ingredients that can be used in an infinite number of ways.

As I’ve gotten older, I’ve slowly lost the ability to imagine, to see the various possibilities.  I’ve been conditioned to go to work, do my job, pay the bills, check off the to-do list, and never, ever deviate.

Not them.  At least not yet.

To Megan, a scrap piece of paper is a canvas on which to create her latest masterpiece.  To Erin, a plastic harmonica case is the perfect container for her partially sucked-on peppermint stick.  Megan happily sleeps with her baby blanket, even though she outgrew it years ago.  And Erin pours out compassion on her dollar-store teddy bear who is abnormally flat.

They each walk to the beat of their own drummer, and in each in their own way.  And I hope that never changes.

I guess I need to learn how to stop taking life so seriously, to let go of the things I don’t have any control over and appreciate the things I have.  The job, the bills, all the responsibilities that go along with being an adult, those things are still important.  But that doesn’t mean I have to stress out over everything either.  After all, it’s just a game, right?